Dark to Day
by MissJamy
Summary: A little story following the end of The Battle of Hogwarts.


A/N: Hello, I know it's been forever! This little number popped into my head one day so I decided to write it out and publish it it. I don't know if it's just going to be a one shot or more. I hope you like it.

 **Disclaimer: No Copyright intended. All aspects of Harry Potter's world and the Characters belong to the amazing JK Rowling.**

* * *

The sun had just pasted its highest point when Ron stirred. The grounds outside were quiet and still, even the wildlife was peaceful, as if they knew the castle was in mourning.

The trio had slept soundly, their minds and bodies too exhausted to process the battle that had raged in the night. By the time they had fallen into bed in the early hours of the morning they didn't even change out of their dirty clothes, not even pulling the red and gold covers back on the four poster beds that reside in the Gryffindor dormitories. Molly Weasley had gone frantic when she noticed they had vanished from the Great Hall, worried she lost them again after the events of Bill and Fleur's wedding. She had a feeling she knew where they were but felt her heart sink when what used to be Dumbledore's office was empty and all she could see were the many portraits of previous headmasters sleeping in their frames. None of the Weasley's had spoken in hours. All in shock from losing Fred. George and Ginny were staying together, the eldest holding his little sister's hand; she looked so small with her tear streaked face. The room was so silent you could hear a pin drop and everyone jumped slightly when Percy spoke in a quiet and broken voice suggesting that Harry, Ron and Hermione were in Gryffindor tower.

The Weasley's had found the trio in what would have been the Ron and Harry's dorm if they had gone to school that year, Arthur Weasley spotted Kreacher in the corner of the room, his head propped up against the wall, one eye open as if he was keeping guard. The elf gently bowed his head to the Weasley's, almost knowing that they were in mourning and Disapparated from the room. Gently Mrs Weasley pulled back the covers of each bed and laid them over Harry Ron and Hermione, carefully taking off their shoes before she did so. Her eyes were heavy and sore with exhaustion and emotion as she spotted each of them had fallen asleep holding their wands tightly, she sighed gently and kissed each one in turn on the temple. As the sun started to rise slowly in the window the rest of the Weasley's climbed into the remaining beds and formed camp beds from their wands before getting some sleep.

Ron started to stir, the dim sunlight echoing in his closed eyelids from the window. He rubbed his eyes and for a moment all memory of the night before was forgotten in his foggy brain until the flash backs came flooding into his mind. The battle, the green lights coming from the end of Death Eater wands, the fire in the Room of Requirement, Voldemort coming to end of his reign and Fred… Fred. His eyes felt wet as the image of his brother filled his vision, he tore his eyes open and rubbed them with his hands. He saw the familiar room filled with empty camp beds and used four poster beds and guessed his family had got some sleep here as well.

Harry was still asleep but not as deeply as he had been, for he was turning over in his bed and shielding his eyes from the lowering sun. He looked across the room to where Hermione had been laying, a twinge of guilt filling him even more as a small amount of happiness filled him, they had kissed, trust it to be in the middle of a battle but it happened, she had moved her bed to be closer to his and they had fallen asleep holding hands, they had so much to discuss but now wasn't the time. He frowned a little, noticing her bed was empty and in Hermione fashion was made perfectly. She had also placed clean clothes on the end of his and Harry's bed ready for when they awoke. He got up steadily, his body weak from the long battle and almost nine months without any real food, walked the edge of the room and into the bathroom.

Ron spent way too much time in the shower than was necessary. The warm water stung the grazes and minor injuries he got in the battle but it felt good to be standing in warm running water. The sun had just reached the edge of the earth by the time he descended the spiral staircase, feeling ready for more sleep already. Harry was already downstairs, a plate of food sitting on the table next to him as he held a sandwich in his hand whilst staring into space. Ron knew the guilt he was feeling, it was Harry and he knew him too well. He could see how Harry half wanted to leave the room, leave the family to grieve together but there was no way his mother would allow that. Harry was part of his family. Before he knew what was happening he felt a pair of familiar arms wrap around him and Ron drew in his breathe. He had been avoiding this moment, knowing that as soon as he saw his mother his emotions would get the better of him. He swallowed and let her hold on to him for a moment before pulling away and sitting down on the old familiar sofa. Within a heartbeat Mrs Weasley placed a plate of sandwiched on his lap as his father ruffled his hair, something Mr Weasley hadn't done since he was a child.

Ron looked at his lap, desperate to avoid any of his sibling's faces; Bill and Charlie were pacing up and down every so often looking at their parents. Ron knew that they wanted to go and help with the clean-up of the castle, Charlie in particular, who hated sitting around doing nothing. Percy was failing to pretend he was reading one of the school books left behind by a student. Ginny was sitting on the other side of the sofa, her knees her cuddled to her chest as tears slowly fell down her cheeks. Crookshanks, whom Ginny had been looking after whilst Hermione was away was sitting close to her with his head on her arm. His father was sending Owls to the Ministry and frantically writing letters as his mother and Fleur went about the room tiding and cleaning what mess she could.

George was the hardest to look at, even out the corner of his eye Ron felt a piece of his heart break off. George's face was pale, his cheeks red and his eyes bloodshot. He lay curled up in a ball staring at the portrait hole of the common room as if he was waiting for Fred to come through and say it was all a joke. He hadn't moved, only his eyes fluttered as Ron came into the room and he let out a sigh that sounded like relief that Ron was alive and okay, but also disappointed that it wasn't Fred. The room was cold even though it was May and the fire had been put on. He saw _Hogwarts: A History_ sitting on the table in in front of him and it hit him as to why the room felt empty. Hermione wasn't here.

* * *

The walk from Gryffindor common room to the prefect's bathroom was soul destroying for Hermione. The castle she knew and loved was forever changed; rubble filled the hall ways, portraits had been torn and fallen off walls and the library was pretty much obliterated. She had woken before Harry and Ron that late afternoon, her bones hurting her from her recent meeting with Bellatrix Lestrange. The room had been empty and she could hear quiet voices from the common room. She dressed, making the bed as did and placed clean folded clothes on Harry and Ron's beds for them when they woke. As she exited the stairs that lead into the common room she noticed all the Weasley's were awake, Kreacher was serving tea and breakfast, the fake locket still around his neck. At the sight of it Hermione felt nauseous, she placed a hand to her head as Molly Weasley wrapped her arm around her shoulders. It felt like she'd asked Hermione a million questions in a millisecond as Molly guided her to an arm chair passing her a cup of tea and a plate of toast. Hermione made out words such as 'starving' and 'much too skinny' but felt like her voice was coming through a tunnel. Hermione sipped her tea and managed to eat half a slice of toast, it tasted like ash in her mouth but she had to eat something to make Mrs Weasley satisfied.

She felt a tickle around her ankles and looked down to see Crookshanks, who greeted her with a meow. She picked him up and stroked his fur gently as he purred, in that moment Hermione felt normal, as if she was back at school reading her school books with her trusty cat. She fell back to reality with a bang within seconds as Crookshanks leapt of her lap to comfort Ginny who sniffed and wiped her eyes with a used tissue. Hermione suddenly felt very self-aware, closed in and like she didn't belong. She rose from her seat and told Fleur, who had been watching her closely, a habit she'd got from their unexplained arrival at Shell Cottage days ago, that she was going for a bath in the prefect's bathroom.

The bathroom looked unaffected from the battle, the many rows of golden taps stood proudly where they always had, the tiles in the bath were just as clean as they were in sixth year and the stain glass mermaid sat beautifully on her rock glittering all colours in the setting sun. As the water ran into the giant tub Hermione pulled off her soiled clothes and unwrapped the bandage from her arm. She shivered as she saw the scar Bellatrix left her.

Hermione stepped into the warm water feeling her body relax slightly; she hadn't notice how tense she was. Her mind was thinking a million miles per hour, images of the battle were flashing before her eyes, the image of Harry in Hagrid's arms, the spiders, the ogres, the colours of spells, Lavender Brown being attacked and falling off the balcony. She let her tears fall, she felt free to cry here whilst alone. It wasn't right to cry in front of the Weasley's, they had lost a son, a brother and her grieve isn't the same. She wasn't just crying for Fred, her fell for all of those who lost their life to this war, she could feel the responsibility of them all on her shoulders, if only they had acted quicker, more lives could have been saved. She knew this would be Harry's thought process too, she knew him too well, the boy she considered to be her brother. It was always her and Ron who remained strong for Harry, but now it was just Hermione who had to be strong. It was a lonely feeling.

Hermione closed her eyes and try to enjoy the silence, her fingertip tracing the 'Mudblood' scar on her right forearm absently. It still hurt and she guessed that Bellatrix had used a charm or knife similar to the one Umbridge had made Harry use in detention. She had always been sure of herself and who she was. She accepted she was different from a young age even when the other children thought she was weird. Her big hair, love of books and learning had never appealed to others in her class and she grew up somewhat alone. She never liked it but she got on with it. Her parents told her she was special and the other children were just jealous, they stuck to this saying even more when she started to show elements of magic, roses which were her and her mother's favourite flowers would start to grow from soil that had no seeds and her pen would change colour as she wrote out her school work. In all her childhood she never questioned who she was and it was affirmed the day her Hogwarts Letter arrived. However, now she wasn't sure, all because of a single scar on her arm. Throughout school she had been tormented with the word but it was just a word she wouldn't let bother her in the past Hermione knew she belonged in Hogwarts and the wizarding world. Everything she had thought and knew about herself flew out the window that night at Malfoy Manor, all the vile, evil words Bellatrix had whispered in her ear between Cruciatus curse and the cutting of her arm echoed in her brain along with Ron's desperate screams.

Ron… His tall, lanky, freckled face came into view. Her heart broke into pieces, he'd lost his brother and he'd watched it happen, watched as Percy broke down on Fred's body. She had watched the expression on Ron's face, how he showed every emotion in one look. She had restrained him from killing Death Eaters in his very anger of his grieve. Her tears were still falling as she rested her head back against the tiles. Their moment in the room of requirement felt tarnished now.

Hermione wanted her brain to stop, just for a moment before she had to return. She knew that Madame Pomfrey wanted to assess their health and see if they needed healing. Professor McGonagall also wanted to see them as well as various people from the Ministry. Not forgetting that the Weasley's would want information as well. There will be time for that her brain muttered, for once they weren't on a time scale, their days weren't numbered, it felt like such an alien thought. Without hesitating Hermione took a breath and laid her head under the water. It was blissful, everything was quiet and her brain and slowed down and stopped talking. She stayed there for a short while before she could hear her name from a far. Reacting quickly as she wasn't predicting company Hermione reached for her wand, which she had placed on the seat next to her in the water, it had become a habit to keep it close at all times. She lifted her wand and head above the water to see Fleur at the door.

* * *

It felt like Fleur had been gone a lifetime. As soon as Ron noticed that Hermione wasn't in the room Fleur explained that she'd gone off for a bath. Apart from the time when Ron left Harry and Hermione on that fateful night they had all been in constant company for nine months solid. Ron couldn't help but feel anxious and could tell Harry was starting to feel the same way. Fleur seeing his worry promised to go check on her in a short while if she hadn't come back in the meantime. After another half an hour or so Ron couldn't take being apart from her anymore. He went to stand to make his way to find her, he needed something to do but something made him stop, the heartbroken look on his mother's face told him that leaving wasn't the right thing to do. Molly looked scared and worried; frightened that she may lose another son if he left now. Sensing this Fleur gently sat Ron down and headed out the portrait hole to the Prefect's bathroom.

Ron stared into the fire as the light outside vanished, the sun was replaced by the moon and shone through the window, he heard the portrait of the Fat Lady open and movement of people coming through the portrait hole. Ron could hear Harry let out a breath as Hermione entered the common room followed by Fleur who went to sit with Bill. Ron nodded a thanks to her as Hermione made her way over, she lightly brushed her hand over Harry's hair and took a seat next to Ron. Ron looked at her and held back his tears; he gently rested his hand over hers and relaxed a little. Hermione placed her head on his shoulder, her hair was wet but he didn't care. He took a breath and as he did a tear slowly ran down his cheek as he stared back at the fire.


End file.
